That One Time During the Zombie Apocalypse
by bushlaboo
Summary: Team Arrow plays "What fictional character, weapon, and one song blasting over the speakers would you want for the zombie apocalypse?" Beware, cotton candy level amounts of fluff contained within. [Takes place in a nebulous season five with Olicity reunited and Roy back in Star City where he belongs.] Gift for my awesome internet wife AlexiaBlackbriar13.


"A character cannot be a weapon," Thea groused, cutting off Curtis's answer to the question the team had been discussing the last twenty minutes or so. It was a rare down night for Team Arrow, not that Oliver officially recognized or accepted that they called themselves that. Of course his headshake whenever it was used usually included an indulgent smile, particularly if it was said by her or Thea.

At the moment Oliver's baby sister was attempting to stare down Curtis, something that she'd been easily able to do when she rejoined the team months ago. Now, however, Curtis was getting used to being a part of their merry band and was less likely to wilt immediately in the face of opposition thrown out by one of the vigilantes that could still 'soundly thrash' him as he liked to say. Though slight in stature, it was moments like this with her green eyes sharp and brow furled that Felicity thought that Thea looked most like her mother. No one did impervious superiority like Moira Queen. She could be dead wrong about something – like telling her children that the devil incarnate was Thea's biological father – but her own sense of certainty could be wielded like a weapon. Speaking of, if Thea didn't overrule using a person as a weapon there could be worse choices than Moira Queen.

"Why not?" Curtis countered with a slight pout. He had clearly been delighted with naming the _Darker than Black_ character as his weapon of choice.

"Because characters are characters, no matter their special skills, and **not** weapons. Do I really need to pull out a dictionary and define the word weapon for you," Thea challenged with an acerbic tone. Before Curtis could answer what was obviously a rhetorical question their youngest currently active team member continued, "That your character choice can be considered a weapon is an added bonus, but you cannot end up with two characters."

Curtis huffed slightly as he wrapped his arms around his torso – the increasing muscle mass he gained over the course of his training all but covered the logo of his _Hamilton_ t-shirt – and leaned back in his chair. He shot a questing look to the rest of the team, but neither Diggle nor Roy felt like countermanding Thea's edict. Felicity felt his pleading eyes fall to her, but Thea had made a solid point, the dictionary defined weapon as: ' _a thing designed or used for inflicting bodily harm or physical damage_ ;' a character was a person and therefore most definitely not a thing. Unless you counted robots, while a case could be made that neither Sonny nor Andrew could be strictly labeled a thing it was not a guaranteed win, and unless Curtis made that point himself she wasn't going to champion the cause. At least not for a game of what fictional character, weapon, and one song blasting over the speakers would you want for the zombie apocalypse. If there was an actual sentient robot in real life however—

Her train of thought was cut off by Curtis's sigh of, "Fine." He drew out the 'ine' sound of the word as he straightened in his chair. He leaned back over the table, resting his elbows on it, bringing his hands together so he could rest his chin on them as he said, "Hei's my character then. A Chinese Batman with electric powers and _sick_ blade skills. I'll definitely survive the zombie apocalypse with him at my side," he said his dark eyes taking on a gleeful light as a triumphant grin spread across his face.

Felicity heard a Roy mutter, "Geek," under his breath as Curtis quickly rounded out his choices.

The tally so far was: Beatrix Kiddo, a pair of sai – no one doubted Thea would be anything but deadly precision dancing around zombies with them, and Halestorm's Daughters of Darkness for Thea; who had posed the question and gone first. She had to nudge Roy's foot, not so subtlety under the table, to get him to play along. His choices had been: 355, "my bow and arrows", and he had mused at bit over Radioactive for its post-apocalyptic feel, but ultimately settled on the Red Hot Chili Peppers's Scar Tissue. Curtis had scoffed a falsetto "Whaaa?" sound, which made Roy tense when he declared 355 his character. "I have depth," he grumbled with annoyance.

"Layers," she assured, quick to champion her red-hoodie clad teammate, as she batted at Curtis. Then with a conspiratorial wink to Roy she added, "Like an onion." The hard planes of the young man's face soften until Dig commented, "And access to Felicity's library." Roy released a long suffering sigh and taking pity on her kind of, sort of boyfriend - though both refused to define their relationship - Thea hooked an arm around Roy's and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Just remember who saw those depths first," she teased rubbing her nose into his neck, making Roy blush.

Diggle had followed without any prompting clearly amused by the inane topic choice. His answers had come out quick and needed little explanation: John McClane who was resourceful and had proven to survive just about anything, a shotgun, and LL Cool Jay's Mama Said Knock You Out. He had to raise his brow in warning when Roy attempted to make a snarky comment about his choice of the hip-hop classic, wisely the younger man bit his tongue and Curtis jumped in with his selections, smoothing over the awkward moment with ease. Her right-hand man ended up with Hei, Captain Cold's gun – "freeze the zombies so I can escape and live to see another day" – and the Bee Gees's classic Stayin' Alive. "Inspirational and a definite pump up song to keep you going," he explained when Thea grimaced, "Disco," with mild distaste at his music selection.

She was the last one left to answer since Oliver was across the bunker crafting additional arrows. Not that he would allow himself to get roped into a potential yet highly unfeasible zombie apocalypse survival question. At least not without the promise of naked shenanigans, which always got him do things he considered ridiculous, should he play along. Felicity felt her cheeks flush with the trajectory of her thoughts. Even though they were coming up on two months of being allowed to see each other in the nude again she was still reveling in the knowledge that they were a couple – who participated in sweaty, sexy times with each other – again.

It had been a circuitous route they took to finding their way back together, but this time they hadn't leapt without looking. They hadn't run away from their lives to make being together work. Instead they fit their lives together, melding their goals and ambitions, and worked to make compromises where needed. Most importantly, they talked about the big things and made decisions together. They were true partners in everything this time.

Oliver and their relationship made Felicity so deliriously happy that their sappiness even made her sick some times. They had earned it the hard way though. So people, namely Roy, could roll his eyes and make comments about the honeymoon period all he wanted but she was going to bask in it. Forever if possible.

"Felicity," Thea prompted her with a rapid ratta tat tat of her darkly painted nails against the table.

"Sorry," she apologized shifting in her chair and meeting her friend's gaze. Felicity popped her lips three times in quick succession before spouting off the first thing in her head. When Thea had posed the question her song choice was the first thing she had decided upon and she was grateful no one else had picked it. "Song, Queen's Another One Bites the Dust."

"Beat and relevance, not a bad choice Blondie." She beamed at Roy, pleased that he approved of her selection.

"I know there are arguments to be made against it, but running out of ammunition is a valid concern," she said with a look to Diggle, "so machete for a weapon. Especially if I can be on Curtis's team. Cold gun and machete combined could do a lot of damage to zombie-kind."

"I'm down for that," Curtis replied offering her a fist bump. Felicity tapped her closed fist against his and Curtis made an explosion sound as he opened his hand and raised it up into the air. The move earned chuckles from Dig and Thea and a shake of Roy's head.

There were plenty of fictional characters she could choose from, but there was only one as far as she was concerned who had the combination of otherworldly expertise, vast weapons knowledge, and a stubborn streak wide enough to insist on surviving the zombie apocalypse. Not to mention the added advantage of being easy on the eyes. "My guy would be Dean Winchester," she said with little thought to how she'd phrased her answer.

"Dreamy and deadly, nice picking Felicity," Thea complimented her, rather loudly she thought, as the brunette's voice echoed around the bunker.

The reverberations were just beginning to end when Oliver asked, "What was that?" Felicity winced slightly at his voice – her words had finally caught up to her – while a Cheshire Cat smirk spread across Thea's face. She knew then without a shadow of a doubt that had been Thea's plan all along in hopes of roping her brother into their idle discussion. And, of course, she had walked right into it.

Felicity cursed the devious nature of Oliver's sibling as she turned to look over her shoulder and offer her boyfriend, who'd crossed the bunker swiftly and soundlessly to come stand behind her chair, a nervous smile.

* * *

There was something relaxing, almost meditative, about crafting his arrows. It allowed Oliver to quiet his mind and exercise all extraneous thoughts and worries. He could hear the low tones of his family – for that is what each member of his team had become – chatting, and he took comfort in their presence and safety, but beyond noticing the hum of voices he had tuned out their conversation.

Still when it came to Felicity there was an additional layer of connection. She had been the voice in his head for so long now that tuning into her at a moment's notice was second nature. He heard the words, "My guy," and was instantly drawn into the exchange.

Instead of hearing reference to himself she dubbed some stranger, a Dean Winchester, as her guy. He didn't need a mirror to know his face had gone stony at her statement. He had waited and fought and some days admittedly continued to struggle with being the man Felicity needed only to be usurped by a ridiculously named stranger who apparently had Thea's approval.

He all but growled his question as he left his work unfinished to cross their headquarters and join in the group's conversation. Around the table at which they were sitting Diggle looked amused, Curtis surprised and marginally concerned, Roy unimpressed, Thea delighted and Felicity - the love of his life looked sheepish as she gifted him with a crooked smile.

Hovering over her Oliver caught Felicity's scent and felt some of his agitation ease. The citrusy, floral aroma that was naturally her own was not overly sweet and reminded him of sun-drenched summer days at the Queen lake house with his parents, Thea and Tommy. As if he needed another reminder of how Felicity brightened his life her canary yellow nails flash across the table as she spun in her chair to look him. "My character," she said in way of explanation. Confusion must have been mapped all over his face because she continued quickly, "For the zombie apocalypse."

Still clearly at a loss Diggle took pity on him and explained the theoretical question they were answering. His coiled muscles loosened even more upon learning that the Dean Winchester Felicity mentioned was fictional, but it still bothered Oliver that she'd pick anyone but him in dire circumstances - real or imagined. His sister must have picked up on this because she rolled her eyes and exclaimed, "Jeesh Ollie, it's just game. Now, play along and tell us who you'd pick," she instructed. There was a maniacal glint in her eyes and an elated timber in her voice.

"You do realize that there is zero chance of a zombie apocalypse," he replied with a sardonic drawl.

"So?" she countered unfazed by his indifferent manner. There were days when he missed the easy way Thea would back down when he was clearly not in the mood to capitulate to her whims, though part of him was proud of her tenaciousness. Even when it irritated him.

"So that is about how likely I am to play along," he replied crossing his arms over his chest.

Thea pouted while Diggle and Roy shared an unsurprised glance and Curtis looked mildly crushed. Not deterred, "Even if I changed it to a real person?" his sister wheedled.

"You'd definitely be my pick in that case," Felicity said, giving his forearm a quick squeeze. She'd sat silent through his exchange with Thea, her periwinkle eyes soft and understanding.

"Really?" Curtis interjected. He had yet to learn not stir a settling pot. "Oliver and not one of the super assassins you know or the fastest man alive?" he queried. Because he was looking at Felicity, Curtis missed the fierce frown Oliver shot in his direction.

"To have my back? No," Felicity answered without hesitation. "Not that Sara and Nyssa aren't total bad asses," she admitted with a quick glance to Curtis, "and Barry's speed would be handy."

"Your back against the wall and a hoard of zombies pressing in on you, you want Oliver Queen," Diggle seconded with a nod to him.

"Not that he'd want me in the field with him, and honestly, I'd rather you have his back," Felicity said spinning in her chair again to look at Diggle.

"Hey!" Roy protested in affront.

"That goes double for me," Thea said her tone peevish.

"You guys would be awesome," Felicity said with a wave of her hand to dismiss their complaint, "but when it comes to anticipating and reading each other - it is Dig and Oliver."

"Not that I wouldn't trust my survival to you brother mine," Thea remarked, her eyes no longer shooting daggers though her face was still pinched, "but do you really think Ollie is the best choice to lead us through the zombie apocalypse."

"Thea!" he snapped. He dropped his arms and leaned over the table, his hands pressing down hard on the shiny metal top. She shrugged at his intimation tactic, and really that he had to use one to end this pointless discussion was ridiculous; there was never going to be a zombie hoard after them so why the improbable eventuality had to be debated was beyond Oliver. Before he could find the words to end the conversation Felicity said, "No."

"What?" he strangled out, turning his full attention back to his girlfriend.

Her nose crinkled the way it did every time he wore what she termed his 'grumpy face' but it did not stop Felicity from speaking her mind. Then again, very little, if anything did. "At my side and leading the charge to fight the zombie hoards? Yes into infinity, of course it's you Oliver," she said with a pat to his shoulder. "But leading us? Taking control and working towards a safe colony and finding a cure? Lyla, 150 percent, Lyla Michaels is the one to save us."

Oliver knew he was glaring; he couldn't help it, imaginary threat or not that Felicity would not choose to rely on him grates him. He'd proven himself more than capable and not just as a brawler in a fight but of larger tactical thinking. He won't argue that he's the smartest person in the room or even that he's the most adept – at least not in the planning aspect of things – but they're all here because he came back to the then named Staring City with a mission. One _he_ had plotted. For a moment Felicity had just looked at him with imploring eyes, but as he continued to mutely scowl at her, her demeanor changed. The silence that engulfed the room hung heavy and it thickened the once playful atmosphere with tension as Felicity's softness took on a sharp edge. Beneath her babbling and bright colors Felicity Smoak has a spine of steel. She was never one to back down from something she believed in, he knew that even before she stomped out of their old lair after he informed her that she wasn't the only one who knew how to reboot his system.

He could read that a storm was about to break out but he couldn't seem to prevent it. Thankfully his sister stepped into the breach. "Don't get your nickers in a twist Ollie," she commented drawing their attention to her. On one hand Oliver was grateful to Thea for the interruption; on the other he found her tone and choice of words maddening. Her next sentiment might have eased the growing tension in the tiny blonde beside him, but it did little to placate him, even though they were words he'd heard and agreed with often. "Felicity's right. Lyla is _fierce_ and there aren't many who can handle themselves better."

Oliver was about to argue he was one of those people, when he caught Diggle's nod of agreement out of the corner of his eye. His brief pause allowed Roy to pipe in, "She's a hell of a strategic planner. I mean before she was leading ARGUS she had to out maneuver Waller. If that's not an impressive bullet-point on a resume nothing is." It was a valid point, but again something he had accomplished himself … once. Though it hurt to admit, Lyla had managed that particular feat more often on their behalf.

Curtis chimed in his two cents next. "We all know from personal experience that she inspires loyalty and is able to get disparate," he mouthed the word 'difficult' in an exaggerated manner to the group with a knowing look and Oliver felt himself chafe because he knew the implication was that he was one of those difficulties, "personalities to work together for a common goal."

His growled response was cut off by Diggle saying, "Plus, she's a mother. There is _nothing_ Lyla wants more than to make the world a better place for Sara. She'd save the human race to save our girl," Dig said this last part as if an indisputable fact. And honestly it was, for all them, because there was nothing they all wouldn't do for Sara Diggle. Oliver knew by the look in his friend's eye that he didn't mean that particular reasoning to be a referendum on the lack of a fatherly role he played in William's life. John had not agreed with the decision, but he respected it because it had been a choice made to keep his son safe. On a daily basis both he and Lyla faced making choices to protect Sara.

He dropped his head as his ire drained at that realization and though succeeding control, even hypothetically, was difficult Oliver could at least admit that the argument for Lyla leading them in that instance was reasonable. He grumbled his barely audible conclusion. Though it was left unsaid he was certain 'not that there will ever be a zombie apocalypse' was heard in his tone.

When Felicity's hand settled over his and she pressed her fingers between his to hold it he knew that the potential for discord between them had passed. He squeezed her fingers as he brought her hand up to his mouth to place a gentle kiss on it. "I think," she said her breath catching, "playtime is over."

"And I was thinking a round of marry, fuck, kill might be in order," Thea remarked. Oliver snapped his head up and whatever she saw on his face had his sister's eyes going saucer wide. " _Kidding_ ," said with a forced laugh. "Just kidding Ollie."

Felicity leaned into him, her warmth distracting him as she whispered, "You'd definitely be my choice for those first two." Oliver felt his heart jump before it picked up a rapid fluttering beat at her admission. "I'm not much for killing though, unless Isabel Rochev magically came back from the dead. I really did enjoy hitting her with the van," she babbled.

He turned his head, their noses were all but touching and he noted that Felicity was biting into her lower lip – he loved when she did that because she always looked so adorable when she did – and he breathed out her name, " _Fe-lic-i-ty_." All the love he felt, the longing for her that never went away – even when she was in his arms, and hope he had for their future was expressed with that one word. An exuberant smile danced across her face and Oliver felt his own mouth tilt up in response.

"That is not me proposing. That is not a thing that will be happening in the bunker. At least not when I can't get you naked immediately after," Felicity couched, her face flushing a delightful shade of crimson at her words. "It is, however," she said with a quick nip to his bottom lip, "a fair warning to you that someday you're going to be Mr. Smoak."


End file.
